The Lilies of the Black Ponds

The Lilies of the Black Ponds

for Susan Deborah King

In a moment between getting dressed
and my morning commute
I sat at the edge of my bed

And for some reason my hand
reached to the bedside table and drew out
Mary Oliver's book from the stack.

The page opened to this verse:

        "Who doesn't love
        roses, and who
        doesn't love the lilies
        of the black ponds"

In an instant my mind flew
open to a place I know
where lilies grow in wild, still water

And several days later, not long after dawn
I sat unhurried, drifting through wild lilies.

Their pads were tethered by slack tapers
to the rich, soft, soil
and all that lies below it.

~ Hal

When the World Comes Alive

When the World Comes Alive

Over this past weekend I was lucky enough to spend the fishing 

season opener with a few friends on a trip in the Boundary Waters.

We put in off the Gunflint Trail in the pouring rain, and after 4 

hours of paddling and portaging we arrived at camp soaked and 

hungry.  Oh well, we survived.  Another day of wet and very cold 

weather followed, but thankfully the sun did eventually reappear.

On Saturday evening we took a break from fishing to spend some 

time hiking just south of Winchell Lake.  This area was burnt in 

2006 by the Redeye Lake fire.  The terrain is terribly charred, and 

aside from my curiosity about how forests regenerate, I was not 

feeling a real connection to the place.

Then as we turned back toward the canoes, the light caught hold 

of the new-grown shrubs and the entire hillside came alive.  I 

stopped to take it in, then captured this moment as I followed my 

friend Jim down the slope.

~ Hal

Spring Ephemeral

Spring Ephemeral

One of the things I love about working in the field of natural 

resources is that my team tries to hold our quarterly meetings 

at various parks around the state.  This spring we decided to go 

down to Big Woods State Park (near Northfield, Minnesota).   

Most of us also ended up camping there and exploring the woods 

in our off-time.

All over the park, we found the forest floor peppered with bunches 

of these trout lilies in bloom.  I had hoped to spot the very rare 

dwarf trout lilly, but it turned out I was a week too late ~ they had 

already bloomed and hidden themselves again.

Nonetheless, this tender beauty brightened my eye after an evening 

run through the woods with my friends Chris, Mike, and Shelly.

~ Hal

Winter's Exhalation

Winter's Exhalation

For the past week the warming temperatures and melting snow have resulted in a string of beautifully foggy mornings.  Their eerie nature drew me to Foster Cemetery, one of the lonely, lovely spots hidden around town.

I found myself high on the hill above the Kinnickinnic River, sitting with my back turned to the old settler’s grave stones.  I listened to geese flying through the gray soup.  Every now and then a pair would emerge from the fog of winter’s final breath, only to disappear again a moment later, headed downstream.

~ Hal

Duck Stamp

Duck Stamp

I was up early on Saturday to drop Garth off at school for his 

choir concert trip.  After saying goodbye, I headed over to Glen 

Park and followed the trail down the hill to the Kinnickinnic River.

If you’ve ever been traveling away from home and stopped into 

a small-town cafe mid-morning, you know the feeling I had as I 

emerged from the woods;   heads turned to eye my entrance when 

I joined these mallard ducks at their regular gathering spot.

After a moment, they went back to stamping their feet and discussing 

their plans for the day.  I took this photo, then wandered further up 

the river.

~ Hal

Barn Bluff

Barn Bluff

On Saturday morning I woke up early to go for a hike on 

Barn Bluff (down in Red Wing, Minnesota).  Over the years 

I’ve rock climbed there and I wondered what it would be like 

to hike along the stone walls in winter.

I don’t usually get excited about “grey” snow days, I tend to 

favor the bright winter sun.  This morning, however, I 

rediscovered a soft, reflective quiet that had me thinking 

about past summer adventures.

I took this photo as I walked along the quarry trail, revisiting 

old familiar haunts cast in a different light.

~ Hal

Running Water

Running Water

One of my favorite spots on our regular running route is the 

small bridge where we cross over the South Fork of the 

Kinnickinnic River.  My anticipation builds as the path curves 

away from the main part of the University campus and bends 

down through a patch of sumac toward the stream.

I love to listen for the exact moment when I first hear the water 

flowing over stones in the stream bed.  The sound of the small 

riffle below the bridge comes just a few gratifying seconds before 

I round the bend and the water comes into view.

On this particular morning we stopped on the bridge to look at 

these exquisite patterns where the ice caught the light. I came 

back later to take this photo.

~ Hal